


scarlet ideal

by orphan_account



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: A character study of sorts, Doesn't really make sense truly, Drabble, Many mentions of the colour red
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:40:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21561613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The red of passion turned into obsession and Charles was consumed by his rival, his newest obsession, the man of red beneath a mask of blue.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	scarlet ideal

**I could not find among such bloodless roses**

**a flower to match my crimson-hued ideal**

**CHARLES WAS SURROUNDED** by the colour red.

Throughout his life, red had always been his goal;

red, the colour of love, passion, the colour of the livery he dreamt about as a child, innocent and fragile with dreams bigger than he could grasp;

red, the colour of blood, his blood, the blood that gave him life, that gave him the possibility to drive and fulfil his childhood fantasies of driving for the scarlet team;

red, the colour of sin and decadence, infidelity and lust, the wrongs in his life brought upon by the fame, fuelled by seas of people coloured red screaming his name with such fervour it sent shivers down his spine.

He felt like a king wearing a ruby crown, sitting on his scarlet-hued throne in Maranello looking at the mess he’d made with no regrets, zealous and proud at what he’d achieved at such a tender age; his predecessor had fallen from grace, kicked down by Lucifer under the guise of his brother and got fed to the crimson-coloured hounds waiting to pounce at the first indication of a mistake.

Charles was unstoppable, unbeatable; a deity among the commoners in the blood-coloured city of sinners and saints alike, worse than both Sodom and Gomorrah yet still standing, protected by its own crimson prince, loved by fans, his _tifosi_ , their own saviour in the years to come, ignorant of his true inexperience and naivety masked by the few achievements he’d reached so far.

He believed himself to be the red-coloured prince before getting kicked off his throne by a barely older but so much more adept enemy, a raging bull pouncing at the red and devouring, leaving in its wake nothing but the green insides of the scarlet boy for the world to see; maybe that’s what pushed him towards the enemy, towards the lustful nights of sin brought upon by red, hot anger and passion, by the scarlet god Eros himself.

It was red that pushed him to Max, the pull of fiery determination and impatience radiating off his rival, the enemy waiting to bring him down in a moment of pure white innocence stark against the crimson hues of desire when Charles lets his guard down. The red of passion turned into obsession and Charles was consumed by his rival, his newest obsession, the man of red beneath a mask of blue.

Red was them and they were red;

the colour of both the devil and the cupid, of sin and of love, dominance and passion;

the colour of courage they both seemed to possess plenty, of the libido let loose underneath the crimson lights of the nearest billboard shining over them when they let their emotion run wild at the darkest parts of night.

Red was everything they were and more.

They were born in red, raised in scarlet and they lived beneath the crimson hues of the spotlight ideals.

**Author's Note:**

> the quote at the beginning is from charles baudelaire's poem 'ideals' from 'les fleurs du mal'
> 
> [find me on tumblr](https://bakuturnnine.tumblr.com/)


End file.
